Hungry For Revenge

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Authors: Ron Shillingford

Tags: #relationships, #friends, #school, #happiness, #confidence, #diet, #reunion, #weight, #pies

BOOK: Hungry For Revenge
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HUNGRY FOR REVENGE

By

Ron Shillingford

SMASHWORDS EDITION

******

Hungry For Revenge

Copyright © 2011 by Ron Shillingford

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******

Joanna Turner felt suicidal and murderous all
at once, the tormenting was taking its toll. Virtually every day
for years, they were her most overwhelming emotions.

Fed up of the bullying, being obese shouldn’t
be so painful, she reasoned. Getting called ‘Tubby Turner’ out of
earshot was bad enough but the cruelest kids called her that to her
face.

Comfort eating was the cause after her
parents divorced at nine. Her mum Lola would pile up her plate,
with plenty of naughty snacks in between, especially Mr. Kipling’s
apple pies. A box of eight a day was Joanna’s grazing treat
throughout childhood. She read George Orwell, Jane Austen and
Charles Dickens munching Mr. Kipling’s apple pies in total bliss.
Jackie Collins and Wilbur Smith novels drew her into fantasy
worlds, helping her deal with the pain at school.

Katie Thompson was Joanna’s main tormentor at
Redwood High, one of the cool girls who took a twisted pleasure in
mocking anyone who didn’t quite fit in. Katie’s accomplices
included five girls who also taunted Joanna. She dubbed them The
Cronies.

Pretty, super-confident and popular, Katie
was heading for a career in the City. Her dad would see to that as
head of investment at his bank, World Finance. While junior staff
needed to be 18 and have at least A-levels for entry into World
Finance, Katie was going to join straight from school at 16 with
the couple GCSEs she bothered to study for.

Joanna’s love of Mr. Kipling wares was a
standing joke, so Tubby Turner was also taunted with the moniker
‘Apple Pie’ and ‘Mrs. Kipling’.

A bright child, Joanna immersed herself in
books, determined to be a high flier and one day make the bullies
envious. A brilliant all-rounder, she concentrated on science
simply because they were the hardest subjects and most likely to
propel her into a lucrative career.

“Mum always said that to get your own back on
enemies you should be happy
and
successful,” Joanna told her
friend Sandy.

“Well you’ve certainly done that girl.
Chemistry degree from Cambridge, head of research development at
the Ministry of Defence and nice apartment in the Docklands.”

“Suppose so Sandy, but it would be nice to
have someone to share it with.”

“Men! Ha! Don’t get me started. Liars,
drunks, sports mad and serial cheats. Louis hasn’t seen his dad for
months. Poor boy is 13, an age he where he needs a man to show him
how to be one. I can’t be both at the same time, although sometimes
I don’t have a choice. Men are total losers.”

“Yes, but what do you really think of
them?”

Sandy’s stern look lightened up into a smile.
She knew her regular rants on her pet gripe were tiresome. Joanna
had heard so many she could finish sentences for her.

“Nevertheless, it would be nice to have a
beau just for Saturday. It’s the school reunion and that evil Katie
Thompson will be there. No matter what I’ve done in life, it’s not
good enough. She lives round here. Every time I bump into her she
finds a way of putting me down. Never says anything specifically
about my size but always gives me that look up and down, you know:
‘Still fat, I see.’”

“Don’t worry about it Jo. She’s not perfect
herself. She may be riding high at World Finance but I hear there’s
a lot of Charlie involved.”

“Really! Probably why she’s still so thin. A
cocaine habit used to be God’s way of telling you you’ve got too
much money.”

Joanna was dreading the school reunion. At
size 18-20 she felt massive. Katie’s sneers weren’t her only worry;
there was Gary Billings as well.

Joanna had a raging crush on hunky Gary. Who
wouldn’t? The best schoolboy footballer in Bow, a great career with
West Ham United beckoned. On the short side, but perfectly formed
with muscular thighs, Gary’s toothy smile and emerging celebrity
attracted plenty of female admiration.

Joanna worshipped Gary from a distance - as
did most of the girls who didn’t stand a chance with him - but she
was convinced that if slimmer, her chances would be significantly
enhanced.

Lola always said her smile could light up a
Christmas tree.

Now weighing 16 stones, the shame would be
too much to bear. Dieting had always been a total disaster. She
would lose some then put it back on with interest.

“Apple pie Joanna? They’re Mr. Kipling’s. Go
on, I know you liked them. I brought them especially for you.”

Katie Thompson grinned infuriatingly as she
held out the plate at the Redwood High dance.

Embarrassed and furious, Joanna’s murderous
feelings resurfaced. It was all she could manage not to strangle
Katie’s scrawny neck right there. That would have really made some
headlines on the school’s website.

“Oh yes, they’ve always been my guilty
pleasure. Thanks. I’ll have two I think.”

“Not eating for two are you?”

“No, I’m not pregnant. Just still fat,
Katie.”

“Never mind. One day you might meet a nice
man who’ll love you for your large, eh, personality.”

Joanna cried all the way home in the taxi. To
compound her misery, Gary Billings was still gorgeous and his
trophy squeeze was impossibly slim. To exacerbate it all, he didn’t
even remember her.

The driver was concerned.

“Are you alright love?”

“What do you think? Just went to a school
reunion and a bully from those days made me miserable from her
comments about my size.”

“Walk it off, love. Best way to lose it.
Power walking is very effective. Low impact and it’s sustainable
over a long time. I used to be bigger. Hate gyms and dieting. Love
me food and a pint so decided to make time to power walk and I’ve
lost the weight and kept it off. No harm in trying.”

As there was little else Joanna could think
of, the next day she gave it a go, walking a couple of breathless
miles to Canary Wharf and back.

The following day, a Sunday, instead of
driving, she walked all the way to Mile End to watch Louis play
football. The body heat she built up helped keep her warm watching
from the freezing sidelines. Sandy was so impressed she promised to
join in.

The two threw themselves into their new
fitness regimes, constantly comparing performance and geeing each
other up during lazy spells. Both lived only a few miles from their
workplaces so walking back and forth became a daily occurrence.

Joanna improved her eating habits although
nothing was off limits. Cake, biscuits, ice cream, pizza, crisps
and, of course, Mr. Kipling’s apple pies were still on the menu but
only in moderation.

The weight came off gradually. Unlike in
previous attempts when drastic measures like near-starvation only
had short-term gains, this time she tweaked her routine to build it
into her lifestyle.

This change was sustainable for Joanna who
started receiving compliments from friends and family.

Nat, the security guard in the block where
she lived, certainly noticed.

“How many miles today?”

“Did eight in all, Nat. Lost two stones in
two months. Still a long way to go but I’m determined to reach 10
stone.”

“Keep it up and you’ll soon have George
Clooney as a Facebook friend.”

“How do you know he isn’t already?”

At 29 Nat was ten years younger than Joanna.
When not on duty he was always in the building’s gym and the
rewards of hours of pumping iron showed distinctively under a
form-fitting uniform.

Always pleasant and sometimes flirty, Joanna
was not sure whether he was genuinely interested in her or not. He
seemed to have a rapport with all the women in the block no matter
what age. Men too, so maybe it was just wishful thinking on her
part.

“If you’re going into a toy-boy relationship,
just remember that maturity wise he is 10 years younger than his
actual years.”

“What do you mean, Sandy?”

“He may be 29 but when it comes to maturity
he is only 19. All men are like that, trust me.”

“You’ve got a point. They never really grow
up, do they?”

Sandy’s acrimonious split with her partner
had turned into hostility to men generally. Nat, she insisted, was
a no-go area.

“He’s too pretty, buff and flirty, Jo. Trust
me, steer clear of toy-boy relationships.”

Sandy was still a good-looking woman at 42.
Long legs and trim waist beneath a bundle of red hair that framed a
button nose and full crimson lips, always got her noticed. Male
attention was never a problem, but so badly hurt was she from the
split with Louis’ father that all advances from men were swiftly
rebuked.

One over-persistent admirer in a bar in
Moorgate left hobbling after feisty Sandy kneed him in a
particularly delicate spot.

As Joanna continued to walk everywhere, the
weight steadily dropping off, an impromptu fan club built up. The
road sweeper always had a cheery word, the postman accused her of
training to take his job and construction workers invited her to
join in their tea breaks.

The following year Joanna was two months away
from her fortieth birthday and down to 11 stones. Determined to be
a perfect 10 in a size 10 and weighing 10 stones by her birthday in
June, she made the bold step of asking Nat if they could train
together for a while.

By now he was showing more than a passing
interest, but Joanna, mindful of Sandy’s advice, dismissed the
advances

“I’m bursting to settle down and have kids,
Sandy. Biological clock is ticking away. No Friends With Benefits
situation here. Anyway, Nat’s still a horny kid. I heard he’s been
seeing a Polish girl
and
a Virgin Air stewardess in our
block.”

“Bet she’s not a virgin anymore! Don’t even
think about giving him a chance Jo. A dog like all the others.”

Sandy’s red locks seemed to glow like a
beacon when she went into a man-hate rant. Joanna always found a
way of making her click out of it.

“I think you’re going barking mad Sandy.”

Joanna heeded Sandy’s warnings, resolutely
resisting Nat’s charm.

She felt great. All the months of power
walking and curbing her wayward eating habits were paying off.

She was just over 10 stones after regular
workouts with Nat who was still keen for a romance. Tempted as she
was, Nat would never tick all her boxes. Apart from the age factor,
he really was immature and after initial pleasantries had little
meaningful to say. Joanna wanted someone who could hold a
conversation that did not involve reality TV contestants, sport and
PlayStation.

He was also extremely vain, spending more
time and money on grooming, waxing and preening than Joanna and
Sandy put together.

“Nat is the Gok Wan of security men,” Sandy
joked. “If he was presenting ‘How to Look Good Naked’ he wouldn’t
have anyone in the studio, just himself.”

He also seemed content with being a muscled
security man for the rest of his life, possibly living well off his
better-paid partner.

Sandy was right, he’s totally unsuitable.

Oozing with confidence from the weight loss,
hair freshly styled and wardrobe bulging with the latest designer
items, Joanna now had more options. Men at work asked her out. Even
the married ones.

Construction site workers whistled and made
sexist remarks – which she treated with disdain but secretly loved.
Approaches for dates became an almost daily occurrence. But no one
fitted the bill. The few she went out with were not quite right.
Internet matching failed too.

As all her former school mates were turning
40 at the same time, Joanna reasoned that someone would have a big
birthday party which would effectively be another school
reunion.

Sure enough, Alice Kirkham - one of the
friendliest girls from school - sent out an invitation on Facebook
for a barbecue at her house in Wanstead. Everyone from the reunion
was invited, including Gary Billings, Katie Thompson and The
Cronies.

Joanna lived on home-made soup, salads and
fruit, walked endlessly and drank gallons of water to help fill her
up in the week leading up to Alice’s party. Stomach grumbling
throughout, she was determined to hit the magic mark.

With a scream of delight she jumped off the
scales. All the hard work and sacrifice had paid off. She showered,
got Sandy to help with her hair, carefully applied make-up and
slipped into a tight, white cotton dress and white cardigan.

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